It’s End Times — What Are You Gonna Have for Dinner?

Time throw away the rulebook

As we all know, it’s end times. And no, I’m not talking about the dictator-in-training in the White House or the cage match on Tuesday night masquerading as the Democratic debate. I’m talking about the fact that China announced this week that it’s sending two thousand ducks to Pakistan to deal with the locust invasion. I guess the ducks are gonna eat the locusts.

I am screaming about this! All I want to do is go kiss those little duckies on their fuzzy little heads and tell them good luck, have fun and pace yourself. This is the same advice I would give anyone going to a buffet.

That the little cute duckies are all I can think about, and not the Pakistani people being stuffed into a blanket of insects, tells you a lot about where my head is. It’s where everyone else’s head is: resigned and yet laughing uncontrollably at totally inappropriate things.

Other evidence that it’s end times includes:

  • When the internet first became a thing, all my librarian friends (yes, I have librarian friends and they are wild) were like, “this is so cool everyone is going to share all sorts of information with each other and it will lead to better understanding” but they totally got that wrong. The internet is just cute cat videos punctuated by rape threats.
  • Polar bears trapped on ice floes. (Yes, I spelled that right. It’s not “flow” mmkay?)
  • My boyfriend ghosted me two weeks ago.
  • My party is about to nominate someone who thinks it’s okay to praise dictators who lock people up for being gay among other fun suppression tactics like forced labor camps. (Whoops — did I say that aloud? Don’t @ me Bernie Bros. I don’t care anymore. I just care about the fuzzy duckies now.)

So now that we know that this is it, it was nice while it lasted, what are we gonna have for dinner? As someone who has 19289393949392949293929 cookbooks and whose go-to move is to roast a chicken for every second date I’ve ever had in order to land a guy (It works. Doesn’t protect against later ghosting though), I have some suggestions.

The only criteria for all these suggestions are that they are pleasurable and easy. There is no kale. It’s time to admit that no one likes kale. There is no quinoa. It’s time to admit that no one likes quinoa. Same with farro, unless it’s made by an Italian grandmother and smothered in slow roasted tomatoes and burrata.

Make a Spanish tortilla with potato chips instead of potatoes. Go ahead. It’s okay. I know that potato chips are the pornography of food: fried, trans fats, carbs, sodium — all the things that we were supposed to not like but we are actually completely turned on by. Ferran Adrià, the mastermind behind elBulli, says it’s okay. Do it.

Make Martha Stewart’s simple beef tenderloin. Beef tenderloin is expensive as fuck, so that reduces the ease of this recipe. But what are you saving for anyway? Your kid’s education? LOLZ. This recipe is delicious and gives you that cozy feeling because it’s just straight forward, like something you would get a basic French restaurant, which don’t exist anymore, at least in Los Angeles. Told you: end times.

Blue Cheese and Cauliflower Soup. I have my own recipe which I am happy to share. I tried to find a good version on the internet so I could provide a link here, but after sifting through all the ad hoc medical advice and conspiracy theories, all I could find were ones that require flour or cornstarch or milk and this deeply offends me. This soup should just be blue cheese, cauliflower, chicken broth, onion and thyme. You can screw around with this — add more cheese, or less (but why?).

Bottom line: it’s like drinking a bottle of blue cheese dressing, which we’ve all wanted to do but couldn’t because we didn’t want to seem weird. But come to think of it, if the soup is too much trouble, go ahead and just drink a bottle of dressing. It’s all gonna be over soon anyway.

Do a violins on the Titanic type thing. You may, like me, want to do something fancy and frivolous before a natural disaster wipes us out for good. I live in California, so I’m pretty sure I’m either going to be taken out by a wildfire or an earthquake. And when that happens, I want to be super glam with great skin and good hair, because end times is definitely an Instagrammable moment.

One of the fanciest and most frivolous things you can do is buy a bottle of sparkling wine (Prosecco or Champagne is good) and four grapefruits. Peel the grapefruits, separate the sections, and then peel the membrane off each section. (This will take a very long time, but again, do you have anything better to do?). Stuff the peeled grapefruit sections into a glass, pour the wine over them and watch the grapefruit expand. Magic. Eat with a spoon while sharing your best memories about planet earth.

Go buy a Costco sheet cake and eat it in front of the television. We celebrated my friend’s birthday the other day, and someone schlepped one of those huge Costco sheet cakes to the party. A Costco sheet cake is, hands down, the best cake in the world. I’m just sad that it took me this long to realize this; it’s one of my many regrets as I take stock of my life. Don’t let the same happen to you.

Meanwhile, let’s all send good vibes to those cute little duckies. Maybe they’ll succeed and I’ll have to rewrite this list to include kale and quinoa because it won’t be end times after all, and we’ll have to start thinking about longevity and health again. What a bummer that would be.

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Federal attorney. On my way to cuddle your dog. To connect: Adeline.Dimond@gmail.com

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